


Doctors, Heal Thyselves

by PuppyLuver256



Series: Life and Times in the Habit-Bora Household [1]
Category: Smile For Me (Video Game)
Genre: (it's gonna be brief but it's gonna be present so i wanna warn y'all for that), Emetophobia, Family Shenanigans, M/M, Short & Sweet, Sickfic, Trans Dr. Boris Habit, and that's a whole lot, because it's MY fic and I get to smear on as much lgbtq rights as i want, habit and kamal are putunia's new dads and you can't stop me, habit is no longer a dentist and runs a flower shop now, kamal's the dentist now and he's happy that way, legally recognized husbands in early 90s america? it's more likely than you think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-30 18:33:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21432802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PuppyLuver256/pseuds/PuppyLuver256
Summary: The widely held belief that you're more likely to get sick at the doctor's office apparently holds true at the dentist too. And sometimes the dentist brings it home to his family by mistake.
Relationships: Dr. Boris Habit & Putunia Mollar, Kamal Bora & Putunia Mollar, Kamal Bora/Dr. Boris Habit
Series: Life and Times in the Habit-Bora Household [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1552876
Kudos: 63





	1. Sick Day

It all started with a light cough.

When Kamal had arrived home from the clinic he’d been in pretty high spirits, especially since today it’d been his turn to pick up Putunia from school and her high level of energy seemed to rub off on everyone. Sure he’d felt the tickling in his throat pretty much all day, even having to cough while looking over a patient (thank god he had a mask on at those times and had also thought to turn his head whenever that urge had overcome him), but aside from those times he'd been able to ignore it relatively well enough. By the time dinner had rolled around, however, the occasional light cough had turned into heavy sporadic coughing fits. “Kamal? Are you o-kay?" Boris asked, notably concerned. “That cough does not sound good at _all..._”

“I’ll be fine! I think.” As much as he appreciated the concern, Kamal hated making Boris worry. “I just—” He interrupted himself with another coughing fit, one that sounded like it had some phlegm behind it. “Just swallowed something the wrong way.”

“That doesn’t sound like _just_ swallow-ing something ‘wrong’,” Boris said with a frown.

“He’s been doing that since the car ride!” Putunia said between mouthfuls of macaroni and cheese. (For crying out loud, kid, did you _have_ to be such a snitch?) She turned to face Kamal, her eyes wide in excitement. “Daaad, if you get sick, can I stay home from school?” she asked expectantly.

“Sorry, Tuni, that’s not how that works,” Kamal said. “Besides, I’m pretty sure I’m not getting sick. It’s probably just where it’s been getting colder, y’know? Seriously, I’m _fine_.”

Putunia pouted. “Man, I wanted to get out of school...”

“Still, would you like me too pick up some medicine after dropping Putunia off to-morrow?” Boris asked. “And some ‘soup’? Just in case?”

Kamal nodded, trying to clear some of the gunk out of his throat. “Might as well have some on hand anyway,” he said, “just to be safe and all.”

“I wanna help too!” Putunia exclaimed. “I’m gonna fight the evil germs that are attacking you, Dad! I’m gonna punch ‘em all!!!” She turned to Boris, eyes pleading. “Can I punch the germs, Pops? They’re bad guys, so punching them is okay, right?? Can I, can I???”

“You can try,” Boris said, “but remember that their really really small and you camt ‘see’ them! And you might acci-dentally hurt your dad if you miss. Would you want to hurt your dad?”

Putunia shook her head. “No, you and Dad are good guys!”

“So may-be you should NOT try to punch the germs,” Boris said with a smile. “We can help him in other better ways, but you’ll have to go to school first.” He winked at Kamal, and they couldn’t help but share a laugh.

\-----

Even though the alarm had gone off at least twice by now, Kamal was not getting out of bed. Apparently what he had worked fast, because he was _way_ worse off than he was the night before. His body was simultaneously too hot and too cold all over, his throat was in pretty bad shape from the constant coughing, and his sinuses were swollen and he couldn’t breathe through his nose at all. He really should call the clinic and get the day’s appointments rescheduled, but the phone was in the other room and he didn’t wanna get uuuup...sure, it was one of those cordless models, but still, he’d have to go get it...

He heard the door open from downstairs and Boris’s singing voice floating up through the floor. Welp, there was definitely no hiding this from him, he definitely would’ve noticed his car wasn’t gone yet. Sure enough, Boris soon stepped into the room, still humming along to the song he’d been singing upon his return. “There you are, calla lily,” Boris said softly. “Did the ill-ness keep you home after all?”

“Don’t gloat about this,” Kamal moaned, pulling the blankets over his head. “Yeah, you were right, I was getting sick...dammit.”

Boris gently patted Kamal’s shoulder. “I would nev-er gloat over you being sick,” he said. “That would just be cruel, and I love you too much for ‘that’.” A hand giving the thumbs-up pushed itself out of the blankets, and Boris smiled. “I did get you the med-icine, like I promised,” Boris added, leaning over Kamal to put the shopping bag in a place where he could see it without having to turn over. “Cough syrup and lozenges and ev-er-y-thing. And I got you some nice lil cup-a-soups so you can have a happy lil soup in your happy lil cup!”

“Oh, you’re so good to me,” Kamal said before erupting into another coughing fit.

“Do you wamt me to set up a doc-tor’s appointment for you?” Boris asked. A slew of swearing and coughing came out of the blanket mound that Kamal had become, and Boris was very glad that today was a school day for Putunia. “Did I say some-thing ‘wrong’?”

Kamal groaned and poked his head out of the blanket mound, an annoyed and tired expression on his face. “The appointmeeents...” he said weakly. “I had like ten cleanings _and_ an extraction scheduled today, and even if I were willing to go in and risk giving them whatever I’ve got there’s no way I’d be able to get there in time for the first one...” He put a hand over his eyes in exasperation. “God, I should’ve just taken care of that when the first alarm went off...”

“I could call in for you, if you want.” Boris smiled, patting Kamal on the head now. “They know me well enough to trust my call on your be-half.”

“Yes, please,” Kamal said. “You’re a _lifesaver_.” Boris laughed and leaned down to give Kamal a kiss, but he moved his head. “Noooo, don’t kiss me noowwww, you’ll catch iiiit...”

“Sillie sickie Kamal, you and eye both know that it’s all-ready too late for that!” Boris grinned slyly. “If I am going to get ‘sick’, that means I would have caught it by now anyway, problably before you even had symp-toms. We can kiss aaallll we like and no-thing will change!”

“It’s still rude to cough right in your face, though.”

“Awww, so con-sid-er-ate.” Boris left the bag of medicines on the bedside table (right beside a freshly potted tooth lily he’d just gotten to bloom the week prior) and made his way to the office where the cordless phone was. He wasn’t too fond of the cordless personally, just because he enjoyed fiddling with the cord’s coils while talking on the phone as it was soothing to do so, but he figured it would be beneficial to be able to bring it into the bedroom in case there were details that Kamal needed to discuss with his staff. Sitting on the bed beside his infirmed love, Boris dialed the all too familiar number.

“_Bora-Keally Dentistry, how can I help you?_” a very chipper voice asked upon answering the phone.

“Hel-lo Janelle, this is Boris!” he replied. “I’m calling be-cause of Kama—”

“_Oh hi, Dr. Habit, it’s so good to hear from you!_” Janelle exclaimed. “_Do you know where Dr. Bora is, by any chance? He hasn’t come in yet, is he all right?_”

Riiiight, Janelle had been around during the days when he was... “Please, it has been _over_ a year, I’m just Boris now,” he said. “And yes, I was act-u-ally calling about him. Kamal has decided to stay home to-day, he’s feeling under the whether and doesn’t want anyone else to get sick. He asked me to call and ask that you re-schedule today’s patients. That won’t be too ‘hard’ will it?”

“_It’ll tick some people off, especially with Dr. Keally being out of town and unable to pick up the slack, but they’d probably be more bothered if they caught something. Maybe we should give this a couple more days, how does that sound?_”

“Hold-on, let me check.” Boris turned away from the phone and to Kamal. “Janelle suggested a few more days, what do you think?” Kamal – coughing up a lung again – raised his hand from the blanket mound with three fingers held up, and he nodded and returned to the conversation. “Yes, he says ‘3’ days to be safe.”

“_Okay, I’ll just go ahead and take care of that for you guys,_” Janelle said. “_Give my best to Dr. Bora, okay Boris?_”

“Abso-lutely," Boris said. “Sorrey for any inconvenience.” He hung up, then turned back to Kamal. “Well, that’s all taken care of!” he exclaimed. “No-thing fore you to worry abbout now but getting better! And I’m going to be here for an-y-thing you need until you are!"

“What about your—” Kamal began, but he interrupted himself with yet more coughing. “What about your shop?” he asked. “You need to take care of anything there?”

“I didn’t think about that,” Boris admitted. “Since it’s just me their, I guess I can just...put a sign on the doore say-ing it’s closed?” He thought for a bit, then asked, “Would you be o.k. while I leave to take care of that?”

“Boris. I’m an adult. I appreciate you offering to take care of me, but I don’t think I’m so bad off that you being gone for less than an hour is gonna make that big a difference.” Kamal sat up, holding out his hand. “Why don’t you give me the phone, and I’ll call the doctor while you go take care of that.”

“All right.” Boris handed Kamal the phone and, before he could stop him, snuck in a quick smooch. “I’ll be rite back!” And with that he was off, leaving Kamal barely able to dial due to having become a coughing, blushing mess.

\-----

Thankfully after calling the doctor Kamal started to feel a little better, due in no small part to the medicine and soup. He was feeling well enough to get out of bed and migrate his blanket mound down to the living room to watch TV, at the very least. Daytime programming may be trash, but it was still edible trash. Wait, that metaphor made no sense, the coughing fits must’ve shook up his brain.

The door opened and Boris walked in just as some random excited contestant on the game show Kamal was watching (well, “watching” as in “being in the room while it was on”) leapt up to spin that huge wheel thing. “So who is win-ning?” he asked jokingly. Kamal just shrugged as he finished the last of his bowl of soup. Boris smiled, removing his coat and hat before sitting on the couch beside him. “And how is my calla lily feelimg now?” he asked. “Any improve-ments?”

“Yeah, a little bit.” Both of them had their eyes widen in surprise at the sound of Kamal’s voice, with Kamal cringing a bit and Boris trying his best to stifle a giggle. “Oh WOW,” Kamal squeaked. He tried to clear his throat in an attempt to make himself sound normal again. “_That’s_ a new development,” he said, voice still strained and cracking. “_God_, I sound like a preteen.”

“So this is what yuo sounded like during pu-ber-ty, thenm?”

“Listen, I didn’t sound this bad going through puberty!” Kamal protested. “I did not sound this ba—” And there came the coughs again. Probably a good thing this time, he likely was not going to convince anyone of that, least of all his own husband.

Thankfully Boris didn’t have to stifle giggles anymore, as he was back in full care mode and had begun patting Kamal’s back. “How did you ‘not’ notice sooner?” he asked. “Surely you would have herd yourslelf by now...”

“Didn’t really have a reason to talk since the doctor call," Kamal said. “Home alone, no one to make conversation with, and I’m not exactly invested enough in Bob Barker to yell at the TV.” Another cough, thankfully just a little bit this time, and he added, “Speaking of the doctor, who’s turn is it to pick up Putunia from school today? Cuz my appointment’s around that time...”

“Oh, she and the other kids are stay-ing at the Varnnias’ place tonight, so I’m guessing that would be Trencil,” Boris said. “You remembrer, right?”

“Oh yeah, that was a thing.” Kamal sighed in relief. He hoped that meant she’d have one less night to potentially catch this sickness (a cold, maybe? he suspected it was just a nasty cold, but he was a dentist and not a general practitioner) and not that she was carrying remnants of his germ spew and would spread it to all of them. At the very least, Trencil would be safe, and maybe Nat as well.

“She was very eggcited!” Boris said happily. “The kids were going to play thru a game like that time they were all over here. I can’t remember the name, some-thing about a crone trigger?” He shrugged. “A witch with a ‘gun’ may-be? Ooh, I donmt know if that soumds approperiate for children...”

“S’probably fine,” Kamal said. “Can’t be any worse than that red smoke monster that was at the end of the game they were playing here...” He started coughing pretty heavily again. Dammit, he’d been doing so good about not nearly spewing a lung for at least a few minutes, why couldn’t it stay that way! He was also starting to feel nauseous, though he wasn’t sure if that was another developing symptom of this illness or a side-effect of the constant coughing. “Might need a trash can...”

“Oh deer.”

\-----

By the time it was time to head to his appointment, Kamal’s nausea had gotten worse, and he wasn’t sure if he was glad that the coughing had subsided for a while or annoyed that this was its replacement. Boris had insisted on driving him there due to this, and the usual reminders for him to wear his freaking glasses on the road were ignored in the face of relative urgency. As he held one of their trash cans between his legs (even though he hadn’t barfed yet, he’d still brought it just in case), he was glad that they seemed to be making good time without any traffic issues. He hoped this meant that Boris was at least wearing his contacts.

“You _do_ remember this appointment is for me, right?” Kamal asked tiredly after they’d arrived. Every time they'd been at the doctor’s office together, even if it was just for Putunia’s checkups, Boris was always a little antsy. “You don’t have to stay if you’re uncomfortable.”

“No, I’ll be fine in the wait-ing room,” Boris said. “I camt just leeve you hear with noway ‘home’...”

“You make a good point,” Kamal said with a nod. “Even if I’d remembered my phone, I don’t know if cells work all that well here yet.” He took a seat, still cradling the can in his hands. “Got something to keep yourself busy while I'm back there, then?”

Boris nodded. “Yes, I brought a book and a note-pad,” he said. “Reading ‘and’ writing ‘and’ drawing, that’s three thimgs to dis-tract myslelf.”

“Puppet staying home today?”

“I did not want him to bring home amnything bad,” Boris said. “You ‘no’ the doc-tor office can actulaly make you sick...well, sick-er in you’re case.”

“Yeah, ironic.”

It didn’t take too long before Kamal was called back into the examination room. Boris waved as he made his way over, trash can still in hand, and as soon as the door between the waiting room and the rest of the office had closed he reached into his pocket and pulled out something that was neither a book nor a notepad. It was a lozenge, a different kind than he had picked up from Kamal, but he knew they worked just as well and he preferred these to those anyway. He popped the lozenge into his mouth and shoved the wrapper back into his pocket. Didn’t want Kamal to see it. Didn’t want him to know that he was starting to get a bit of a sore throat himself. Didn’t want him to worry while he was already sick...

Meanwhile Kamal was getting the full look-over, the doctor not really saying much other than instructions and the occasional “hmm” and “I see”. Dr. Thomas was a good doctor, otherwise they would’ve found someone else by now, he just wasn’t very chatty. Right now that quality about him was suiting Kamal just fine, as he didn’t feel like making small talk himself. “Well, I have some good news for you,” Dr. Thomas said once the examination was done. “It turns out your suspicions were likely correct, you do just have a cold. The nausea is a bit of an outlier, though, and I’d suspected flu based on that but you don’t seem to be having any other symptoms that would indicate that. It might just be something you ate, but if it gets any worse feel free to come back later.”

“That’s a relief,” Kamal said. After thinking about it, he _did_ remember that they’d had beef with dinner the night before, something that never did quite agree with his system for biological reasons regardless of the lingering cultural ones. Yeah, that was probably the reason for that, and the fact that the nausea was already calming down made that justification feel a little stronger. “Any recommendations, then?”

“Bed rest, cough suppressant, that sort of thing.” Dr. Thomas thought for a bit. “Also keep an eye on your symptoms and call us if you don’t see any improvements in a few days, or if things get worse.”

“What about my husband and kid?” Kamal asked. “They’re not sick as far as I know, but should I look out for them having similar issues?”

“That would be wise, yes,” Dr. Thomas said with a nod. “And of course bring Putunia in if she catches it. I'd say to do the same for Boris, but of course that would be his decision to make.”

“Yeah, I’ll do that. Thanks, doc.”

Kamal left the examination room, paid his fee, and returned to the waiting room where Boris was either writing or doodling in that notepad he’d brought. He looked up from his work upon hearing Kamal’s return and beamed. “So is ev-er-y-thing okay?” he asked. “I mean, aside from the obvios.”

“Just a cold, like I thought,” Kamal said with a smile. “Basically he says just get some rest and ease the symptoms, and also we can’t kiss until I'm better so I’m afraid you’ll have to do without for a while.” Upon seeing Boris's face fell he quickly added, “I’m just joking about that last bit! I’d still rather not kiss in case I spew phlegm in your face, but Dr. Thomas didn’t even mention it.”

“That’s good, and I’m so glad it’s isn’t some-thign more serious!” Boris exclaimed. “Now let’s get you home to work on that ‘rest’ you’re pre-scribed.” A mischievous grin spread across his face, and he quickly leaned in to give Kamal a sneaky smooch, but had to lean back just as quickly as Kamal’s cough came back and his head clonked right into Boris’s face. “Well, that’s what eye get for try-ing to be ‘smooth’,” he chuckled as he rubbed his nose.

As they got back into the car, Kamal having put the trash can in the back seat due to no longer feeling the need to use it, he couldn’t help but think about something he’d noticed on their way out. They stopped at a video rental store with the plan to rent something for the two of them to watch, and before Boris got out of the car to go look for the night’s viewing he stopped him. “So you mind telling me why your breath smelled like cherries when you tried to kiss me earlier?” he asked.

Boris thought for a bit, unsure how to respond. He’d never been good at lying. Hiding truths outright and avoiding talking about certain subjects, yeah, but when confronted with something directly his intellect and wit seemed unreachable when he needed them most. “Can-dy,” he eventually settled on. “I foumd a candie in my pock-et.” It wasn't a complete lie, to be fair; the last time Putunia had been sick with a sore throat, they had managed to get her to take a lozenge by claiming it was “magic healing candy”. Even so, the look on Kamal's face said that he didn’t buy it at all. Or maybe that was just resting sick face.

“Well, maybe you can get some more candy with whatever movie you pick out,” Kamal said with a smirk. “I’ll wait in the car.”

“Okay!” Boris left the car all too quickly, clearly done talking about this. Kamal grimaced. He wasn’t one to pry, but even so he was worried about his husband potentially getting what he had. Then again, that was probably exactly what Boris didn’t want, and that was why he had wanted to hide it. Either way, if it was that same cold gearing up in him, there wouldn’t be much they could do about it aside for hope Kamal was better before Boris got the worst of it.

It was probably nothing serious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’know, sometimes you get a wild hair up your nose to write for a genre that you usually don’t do much with. This one’s not a one-shot, but it’s still gonna be a shorter one (probably only one more chapter) because I don’t think I can get too much outta “there’s a sickness in the Habit-Bora household and the caretaker gets it after the sick one gets better”. I’m not even a sickfic person per se, I just had the idea come to mind and it felt right to do something with it. So I did! This is nice, practicing different genres. Though this one does of course require a bit more research than I might do otherwise. Don’t wanna talk out my ass due to my lack of medical knowledge, after all!
> 
> The name alongside Kamal’s in the name of the clinic he works at is the surname of my own dentist, hehe. (don’t nobody tell him about that, he’s a good dude) Also the bit about Putunia sleeping over at the Varnnia’s house with the other Habitat kids and playing through a video game is a reference to a similar scenario me and Tav (pollyannam3 on Tumblr) have been talking about where the kids are sleeping over at their house and playing through EarthBound. Aaaand given what you can probably guess the title of said game is based on how Habit misinterpreted it along with the weather transition, this story definitely takes place in late ‘95. Lines up with my research on cordless phones as well (because yes I _did_ research that tiny-as-hell detail, I mean I looked into the obscure species of the freaking band members of Splatoon’s soundtrack for that Splatoon AU I’m also working on, of course I’ll research obscure things for a more close-to-canon setting) cuz they started being a thing in ‘94 but by ‘95 they were using a more secure signal.
> 
> ...and I just realized I inadvertently referenced Bayonetta with Habit’s misinterpretation of Chrono Trigger. A witch with a gun is not appropriate for kids, indeed. Though going by the generally accepted timeline, by the time that game would be released all the SFM kids would be in the appropriate age range to play it if they wanted. Man, now I wanna play Bayonetta again, what little I played of it was fun as hell but it’s on the Wii U and I’m rarely in the room I have that set up in...


	2. How The Turn Tables

The next few days were pretty uneventful, all things considered. Kamal’s cold was starting to improve considerably, and while he had to leave in the morning and afternoon to transport Putunia to and from school, for the most part Boris was always available to help with anything. For her part, Putunia was helping whenever she could too, and by helping that meant she would grab things for him whenever Boris couldn’t and also draw pictures to cheer him up.

His health had gotten much better come Saturday morning, but that didn’t make waking up to the retching sounds he heard from the bathroom any better.

“_Boris!_” Kamal shouted as he leapt out of bed. He ran into the bathroom to see Boris bent over the toilet, heaving but thankfully not blowing chunks at that particular moment. He looked awful, though, perhaps even worse than how Kamal had felt the past few days. “Oh my god, what happened?!”

Weakly, Boris lifted his head slightly and just glared at him. “Whamt...do you...think...hap-pened?” he asked breathlessly, his voice sounding absolutely ravaged and not just from the obvious. He started coughing heavily and immediately turned back to the toilet in preparation for another round, which thankfully didn’t happen.

“Yeah, I know, stupid question,” Kamal said. He was freaking out, and understandably so. "Do, uh, do you need anything? Anything I can do for you at all?”

“Bed,” Boris hoarsely whispered. “And...may-be soop...if eye ‘can’ keep it dowmn...”

Once they were both reasonably sure that he wasn't going to immediately spew again, Kamal gently helped Boris back to bed as the upheaval apparently took a lot of energy out of him to the point where his legs were shaking. “God, you’re burning up,” Kamal murmured. “You want me to get the thermometer?”

Boris nodded. “Yes, Pleese.”

“All right, I’ll go get that for you,” Kamal said. “You just get comfortable and I’ll be right back.”

Kamal made his way downstairs as quick as he safely could, passing by Putunia as she was watching cartoons on the couch. Rather, she had been watching cartoons, but she was now turned away from the TV and watching Kamal grab...basically everything he’d been using for his own illness up to this point. “Is Pops okay?” she asked. “I heard that all the way down here!”

“Looks like the germs passed from one dad to the other, kiddo,” Kamal said. “We’re gonna do our best to keep it between grown-ups though, don’t worry too much.”

“Can I help make him better?” Putunia asked, practically jumping off the couch. “Cartoons can wait, this hero needs to help her family!”

Kamal laughed. “I’ve got this covered, I’m pretty sure,” he said. “I’m sure Pops would appreciate your enthusiasm, though.”

He returned upstairs with everything, entering their bedroom and placing everything on the nightstand beside the potted lily that usually sat there. Boris was already bundled up under the sheets, save for one hand that held the notebook he kept in the nightstand's drawer for “when random inspiration struck”. The same trash can that Kamal had been keeping on hand at the doctor’s office had been pulled up to the side of the bed just in case Bad Things happened again. “You comfy?” Kamal asked with a smile.

Boris nodded. He held up the notebook and pointed at the current page. “_hurtes 2 talk : - ( gona write ‘or’ sign until I feel a lil better ok?_”

“Yeah, sure, whatever you feel is best for you,” Kamal said. Pretty much everyone who’d been at the Habitat had started to pick up sign language either directly from or because of the flower kid who’d done so much for them, but Boris had learned it much earlier and had insisted that Kamal and everyone else at the clinic at least pick up the basics. He never did question why, but at this moment he couldn’t help but think about how good of an idea that had been as he handed Boris the thermometer. “Here ya go. It’s the digital one, so do you remember how to work that or you want me to set it up?”

“_Thank you, I remember._” He took the thermometer, pushing the button until the device beeped, and put it in his mouth before curling back into the covers again. “_I’m sorry I tried to hide this from you._”

“Didn’t want me to worry while I was still sick, huh?” Kamal asked, to which Boris responded with a nod. He sat down on the bed beside him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "So when did you notice you were getting it?"

“_Wednesday, after dropping Putunia off,_” Boris said. The thermometer beeped and he took it out of his mouth, the display reading 100.2. Not quite bad enough to be serious, at any rate, but worryingly close. “_Felt a weird tickle in my throat but I thought with cough drops I would be fine..._”

“No success with that magic candy, apparently,” Kamal said with a laugh. Boris started laughing too, a wheezing and noticeably higher-pitched laugh than normal which turned into a bad coughing fit real fast. “Oh god, sorry for that...”

“Pleese nooo...” Boris moaned, still giggling a little bit in between thankfully smaller coughs. “_Please don’t make me laugh again, I sound like a smoker grandmother!_”

“All right, I’ll try my best,” Kamal said. “Can I at least make you smile?”

“_Yes, that would be lovely._”

Kamal gave Boris a hug, taking care to keep his own face away from his to minimize risk of either catching the sickness again or being in the firing line of anything, then got up and made his way to the door. “I’m gonna go make sure Putunia doesn’t destroy the kitchen trying to ‘help’,” he said. “I can still getcha that soup you wanted, you still want that?” Boris nodded, a tired but warm smile on his face. “All right. Um, you got anything to get my attention if you need anything? I can try and dig out a bell or something from the Christmas box, see if that works...”

Boris’s smile turned to a mischievous grin. He opened the nightstand drawer and pulled out what would normally be considered a tool of mass annoyance: a small yet powerful blue air horn with the word “NO” printed on the side. “_F-K-star returned this last time they visited._”

“Hoo boy, that is...that’s gonna be interesting,” Kamal said with a sigh. “Wait, ‘F-K-star’? Who’s...” Then it clicked for him. “Oh, Flower Kid, gotcha. Well, I’m gonna leave the door open, hope that thing doesn’t bust the windows out when you use it.” With that Kamal left the room, Boris gleefully waving him on before burying himself in blankets again.

\-----

“I’m guessing you’re never gonna want to rent _that_ game again,” Kamal said, shaking his head in disbelief as he put the cartridge back into the video store box. “Why anyone really thought Shaq needed to fight fantasy martial arts guys is beyond me.”

“Yeah, that game was really bad!” Putunia shouted with a huff. “Wanna play Dream Course? Or Pocky and Rocky? Or Bomberman?”

Kamal put the game box on the counter where all the things-to-be-taken-elsewhere sat and turned back to her. “Tell ya what,” he said. “Why don’t you keep thinking about which of those you want, and while you’re doing that I'll get some lunch started and go check on—”

_BWAAAAAAAAAAAHH!_

“—your pops.” Kamal grimaced at the sudden sound. “Yep, that definitely works just fine.” He smiled and made his way upstairs, ruffling Putunia’s hair as he passed by. A couple more bursts sounded from the air horn. “I’m coming, just hang on!” he shouted back. Oof, maybe he shouldn’t be yelling, his throat was still a little sore as well. Not nearly as bad as Boris was currently experiencing, but he still didn’t want to aggravate anything.

He entered the room to see Boris sitting up and preparing to sound off the air horn again, but once he noticed him he immediately put it back on the nightstand. He waved at Kamal with a little smile. “So did you really need something or are you just making sure the air horn still works?” Kamal asked with a grin.

“_Can you please get me some T?_” Boris asked.

“Uh...” Kamal was confused. T? Boris hadn’t given him a word to work with, just the letter T. Well, there _was_ a T that he was aware of that he _might_ want, but at the same time... “Is that really a good idea at the moment?” he asked. “I mean, I know how much the voice thing is bothering you, but hormones probably aren’t gonna help that right now.”

“_No, wrong T._” Boris grabbed at his hair, clearly frustrated. “_I can’t remember the right sign for it, T, T, T..._ damn-it!” Wow, he must really be bothered by this if he was swearing audibly when he knew Putunia was home, even as tame a swear as “damn”. Especially with the whole “hurtes 2 talk” thing.

“Would you rather just spell it out?” Kamal suggested. “It might be easier that way...”

“_Maybe but it’s going to drive me nuts if I can’t remember such a simple word._”

So Kamal sat there with Boris, waiting for him to figure out this mystery t-word. “Is it _tissues_?” he suggested. “You want me to bring in the _TV_? Need some _Tylenol_?”

Boris shook his head at all of these. He kept going through the signs he could remember around that same idea, none of them actually starting with that letter. “_Milk. Coffee. Soda. Water. Wine. Rum. Juice._”

“I saw those alcohol ones in there, you’re not getting any of that while you’re sick.” Kamal gave him a knowing side-eye. Boris just flopped back onto the bed with an exasperated sigh and held up a sign that both of them knew and remembered quite well, that of a certain finger extended by itself. “Hey! _Rude!_”

Then they heard a small gasp from the doorway.

Immediately Boris put his hand down. Both of them had their attention drawn to the doorway, where an absolutely gobsmacked Putunia stood. “That’s the hand thing!” she exclaimed. “The hand thing that Nat and Millie do! Pops did the hand thing!” She gasped again. “That means I can do it too!”

“Oh no...”

“No you absolutely cannot!” Kamal shouted. Meanwhile Boris was burying his face in his pillow and letting out an odd distressed whine. The damage had been done. Putunia was now holding up both her hands with the middle finger extended, laughing as Kamal tried to grab her hands to make her stop. “That’s _rude!_ Just because Boris did it doesn’t mean you can! Stop it! Heroes don’t stick up the rude finger, Putunia!" It was only this comment about heroes that got her to stop, and she looked genuinely remorseful for having done so. “All right, that’s better. Now why don’t you go downstairs, I’ll be down in a bit and you can help with lunch if you want.”

“Okay,” Putunia said. “Sorry, Dad. Sorry, Pops.” She ran out of the room just before Boris started another coughing fit.

“One crisis averted, and immediately another one’s starting,” Kamal said with a worried sigh. He waited for Boris to stop before saying anything further. “Sorry I couldn’t help very much,” he said.

“..s’not that...” Boris whined. “...m’a bad influ-ence nowe...”

“No, you’re not," Kamal reassured him. “That was only one bird that got flipped in front of her, and she probably won’t do it again for a few years at least.” He stood up and stretched a bit before making his way to the door. “I’d better get lunch ready, maybe put on some tea or someth—” The realization hit him just before he heard a slapping sound that was more than likely Boris's palm connecting with his face. “Thaaaat’s the word, isn’t it!” he exclaimed, turning back around for confirmation. “Oh my god, I am so sorry I couldn’t pick that out. Looks like neither of us are operating at 100% today..."

“_The important thing is that we got it now, and yes I would like some._”

“Got it.” Kamal gave him a thumbs-up and left, mentally kicking himself for not being able to figure out something so easy. “I’m not gonna live that down for at least a week, am I...”

\-----

Several hours had passed and Boris had finally started feeling marginally well enough to leave the bedroom. He still felt like a big ol’ bag of garbage, of course; his nose was half-running and half-stuffy, his throat was still sore, and his head and chest ached from the constant coughing. But his fever had gone down (he hadn’t checked on the thermometer so he didn’t know exactly how much, but it was at least a noticeable difference), he hadn’t had to puke after that one time, and so long as he kept his voice at a low volume he sounded much closer to normal, thanks in no small part to the “T”. That was good enough for him, and he really hated secluding himself from his family for even this long. Not to mention he was pretty sure the air horn was just as unpleasant for them as it was for him.

Putunia had long since put the Super Nintendo away and was now drawing pictures, and now that he was feeling a little better Boris was joining in. “So what are you draw-ing?” he asked.

“The Green Menace!” Putunia exclaimed, showing him her drawing of a man that vaguely resembled Boris. He chuckled, he always did like seeing how she envisioned their games of pretend.

“Is the Green Men-ace sick two?”

She nodded. “He got a nasty case of Bad Guy Disease and he can’t go out and do villainy,” she explained, “so now he’s gotta stay in bed until he gets his evil laugh back.”

“I see,” Boris said. He pointed to the second drawing of the Green Menace, which featured another character that looked like Kamal. “And who is ‘this’?”

“That’s his henchman!” Putunia said. “He’s making sure his boss can get better so they can take over the world together!”

Boris smiled. “Well, isn’t he thoughtfull.”

“And what are YOU drawing, Pops?” Putunia asked.

“Important things,” Boris said. He pushed his drawings around to where Putunia could see. They all featured either Putunia, Kamal, or all three of them together, each one with little flowers somewhere on the page.

Putunia gasped. “Those are really good!” she exclaimed. “You’re always so good at drawing!”

“Thamk you, my flower.” Boris thought a bit, then frowned slightly. “Listen, Putunia, your father needs to appologize,” he said. “About what you ‘saw’ me to early-er. I was angery with my-self and took it out on your dad. That doesn’t make what I did okay, and I’m sorrey you had to see that.”

“Huh?” Putunia stopped her drawing briefly to give him a confused look. “What you did?” she asked. “What did you do, again?”

“I...um...never-mind.” Surprising that she’d apparently forgotten about that. Or maybe she was just playing dumb because she picked up on the fact that he felt bad for that already? Nah, it wasn’t like her to just not acknowledge something like that even if doing so would make someone feel better, Putunia was too honest.

“You gonna apologize to the guy you actually offended with that?” Kamal asked as he came in with drinks, a juice for Putunia and more tea for Boris and himself.

“I thought I _did!_” Boris said, taking his tea. “But in-case I didn’t, I’m sorry to you as well.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Kamal said. “I get it, you were frustrated. I probably woulda done the same, probably sooner even.” He couldn't help but laugh. “Still don’t get why you wouldn’t just spell it out even without remembering the proper sign. You had the first letter, just add the ‘E’ and ‘A’ you big goober.”

“Fever isn’t eggsactly best friends with common cents, _Ka-maaalll_,” Boris jabbed, smiling in spite of it. “And you couldn't ‘guess’ from the other words I _could_ remembrer! Your sillie!”

“Careful, you’re gonna end up throwin’ your voice out again.”

“Noooot with the leef-juice, I won’t.” He took a sip of his tea, trying to give Kamal a sly look over the rim of the cup, but all he did was make himself laugh and nearly spill it all down his front. This just made him laugh even more (thankfully after he got his cup back in a safe position), which in turn made Kamal laugh, and while Putunia didn’t really get what was so funny she couldn’t help but laugh as well. After all, a family that laughs together sticks together.

\-----

It had been a few days now, early in a week that both Boris and Kamal had planned to take off even before the illness had been brought home. It was fall break for the town’s schools, and they didn't have to worry about Putunia’s school transportation, which made recovery a little easier. Waking up to no alarm for the sixth day in a row was a feeling that Kamal knew he would miss the next week, but for now he would savor it. He turned over to see Boris still in bed, not that surprising given that he was probably still at least a little sick, but it was always a little weird to see that the morning person hadn’t woken up first. He smiled and put a hand on his shoulder, causing Boris to stir and soon turn over to face him as well. “Good morn-ing, calla lily,” he said softly.

“Morning, Boris,” Kamal replied. “Feeling better? You certainly sound like it.”

“Much better.” He took in a deep breath as though to illustrate that fact. “That’s _such_ a re-leef...”

“Well, I’m glad for that,” Kamal said. “I know one thing: when I go into the clinic next week, I’m instating a new rule that patients who are sick have to reschedule. I’d put dollars to donuts that we got this nonsense from _Becky_ and her snotty little crotch monster rubbing his nasty little hands all over everything.”

“Curse ‘you’, Beckyyyyyy...” Boris shook his fist a bit, laughing a little as he put his hand down.

Kamal grinned. “You don’t even know Becky,” he said. “As someone who does, though, I’m absolutely seconding that statement.”

At that moment, the bedroom door slowly opened as Putunia walked in. Even if they hadn’t seen her absolutely exhausted face, they could tell something was wrong from the small lethargic steps across the hardwood. She was sniffling, there was a crust around her nostrils presumably from dried mucus, and she let out a little cough as she approached the bed. “Dad... Pops...” she moaned as she rubbed her nose and sniffed again. “I don’t...I don’t feel so good...”

Boris and Kamal gave each other a look, that worried yet tired look that clearly said “_oh god, not this crap again_”. “Sooo...I never bought any med-icine for ‘kids’...” Boris said. “Do you wamnt me to do the supply run thise time or...?”

“I’ll go get the stuff,” Kamal said, already getting out of bed. “You call the doctor, we can take her together later.”

“All right.” Boris got out of bed as well, bringing himself down to Putunia’s level and smiling at her. “Don’t you worrey, Putunia,” he said as he patted her head. “Dad and I are going to take good care of you.”

“Any special requests before I head out?” Kamal asked.

Putunia thought for a bit. "McDonald's?"

Kamal laughed. “Probably not the best idea right now, Tuni,” he said. “But when you start feeling better, we will absolutely get you McDonald’s.” He bent down to kiss the top of her head, then headed downstairs and out the door as Boris carried her back to bed. If nothing else were true, it was that this too would pass and they would come out fine on the other end. Families take care of each other, and that was exactly what they were going to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that’s all there is of this. Figured a fitting enough end to this would be a “here we go again” type of situation, hehe. Fun fact, a title I considered for this was “Untitled Habismal Sickfic”, but that seemed too much like an unintended and unnecessary reference to Untitled Goose Game for me to keep it. I do like the idea that Habit would know and occasionally use sign language for any variety of reasons even before meeting my Flower Kid (maybe he goes nonverbal sometimes? maybe he had wanted to be inclusive of deaf/signing patients back in his dental days? maybe it’s just handy knowledge to have, no pun intended), so I decided to throw that in. And illness-brain-frying leading to him not remembering the right sign for a request and getting frustrated and doing the one sign that pretty much everyone knows was just a funny thought I wanted to use as well, hehe. Also the sign name “F-K-star” or alternatively “C-star” for Cosmos (my Flower Kid) is because they really want to be an astronomer and only help with their mom’s flower shop because they don’t have that much of a choice. But hey, maybe I’ll get more into their whole deal later on. ;3
> 
> I’ve really enjoyed writing this, no self-imposed pressure to make anything too grandiose or long-winded, just a short and sweet plot that doesn’t overstay its welcome and wraps up neatly at the end. Maybe I’ll make this a series! Just random slice-of-life stuff with the Habit-Bora household and other Habititians. God, I love wholesome slice-of-life.


End file.
